


Except because I love you

by Teev



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, Kurt got into NYADA on the first try, M/M, season 3 divergence, some OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:45:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teev/pseuds/Teev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt might be kind of crushing on Sebastian, and there’s this weird miscommunication between them - they get off together sometimes, but they still pretty much act like they hate each other’s guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Except because I love you

They still don’t like each other. Blaine always gets that kicked puppy look whenever Kurt and Sebastian start arguing or throwing insults, because he wants them all to be a big, happy, New-York-brought-us-together foster family, and they should all just love each other. Sebastian gags every time he hears that. Kurt just scrunches his nose, repulsed by the very idea. The subject is abandoned for a week or two, mostly because they don’t meet. Sebastian makes a point of shoving into their faces the fact that he has better people to be friends with – ones that are actually worth his time, future CEOs, states’ attorneys, presidents, and whoevers. Kurt does the avoidance dance just as well, burying himself in school work, performances and his job. If by some chance he sees Sebastian at his place earlier than he’d like, he just makes a very convincing excuse on the spot and hangs out for a few evenings at shady dens with some friends from his course.

It’s difficult for Kurt to fully detest Sebastian as a human being. It doesn’t stop him from actively bitching about how stupid Smythe is, arguing with him about every single thing whenever they see each other, and hating on his promiscuous lifestyle. But the problem with Sebastian Smythe is that, underneath the whole asshole exterior and when he’s not too busy being a self-absorbed douche, he’s kind of a nice guy. He likes animals - Kurt saw him a few times bothering people on the street just to pet their dog, scratch it behind an ear and in an annoying voice that should never be used in public talk to it: “Who’s a good booy? Who is? You are!” He tips baristas every time he buys a coffee and gives change to the poor on the street. Kurt wouldn’t be surprised if he volunteered at the homeless shelter on a Christmas Eve. And Kurt’s not sure how it comes up in this equation, but Sebastian’s laugh is also really nice, if he’s not being obnoxious about it. 

One part of Sebastian that Kurt allows himself to not be in denial about, are Sebastian’s hands. Because what evil can hands do if you don’t connect them to a person, if you don’t misinterpret them, don’t interpret at all, and if you don’t let them close enough to you to leave a permanent and tangible mark on your skin – underneath your skin?

He loves how rough and slightly calloused the skin of those hands is, when he feels it on his bare skin, brushing accidentally over his forearm or his own hand, or pulling at his elbow impatiently when he takes too long to move. He always makes sure to push the  _oh, right, Sebastian played lacrosse for several years_  into the section of his brain that he doesn’t care about.

Kurt loves the strong fingers that sometimes are teasingly clasped at his shoulders, pressing into his back until he wriggles out of their reach and makes a disgusted face, hissing ‘don’t touch me’ at Sebastian, before the touch starts burning him through layers and layers of clothes.

He adores the unconsciously protective way one of the hands extends when he’s about to cross the street; a palm rests heavily at his hip, keeping Kurt firmly in place until it deems appropriate to walk again. He refuses to acknowledge the tingling he feels when the hand leaves his body, because he’s not supposed to interpret it, especially if Sebastian is not even aware of what his hand is doing.

(Kurt watched once, when there was also Blaine with them, and then once more when some of Sebastian’s friends from Columbia were accompanying them, and not once did either of Sebastian’s hands move to someone other than Kurt. He felt ill when his stomach twisted in what definitely was not excitement at the discovery.)

 

* * *

 

They make out sometimes. Sebastian’s mouth pressed hungrily to Kurt’s, foreign hands firmly holding his face in place so he doesn’t run off until he’s also participating. The tongue that is licking at his lips is granted access, but then it seems like Sebastian only wants more. It’s wet and kind of messy, and Kurt’s never sure afterwards if he likes it. In the moment, he relishes in the warmth against him, the softness of Sebastian’s skin, the feeling of Sebastian’s tongue against his own, and urgent exploration of his mouth that Sebastian seems to enjoy, if what’s pressing into Kurt’s thigh is any indication.

On rare occasions, against their better judgment (but it was probably clouded to begin with), it escalates to a hand job – hands pushed roughly into each other’s pants; Kurt’s are always too tight and Sebastian bitches about them in harsh, low whispers next to his ear, sending shivers down his spine, as Sebastian’s other hand pushes the offensive piece of clothing down to Kurt’s knees. It’s all sharp and quick jerks, because neither of them wants to prolong it more than necessary. When Kurt comes all over Sebastian’s warm palm, he whimpers pathetically into the other boy’s neck, fighting the urge to just nuzzle the skin that his nose wants to drown in. Sebastian lasts longer and he kind of finishes himself off on his own, grabbing Kurt’s hand and directing the movement. Only implication that he’s gone is the cease in movement, one missing breath, and warm, sticky liquid spilling into Kurt’s palm. He lets out a single deeper pant afterwards, and then he is out of Kurt’s reach, they both move away from the other’s body as soon as it’s over.

Neither of them ever talk about it. They make sure not to touch in a suspicious manner when other people are around. It happens only in clubs’ bathrooms, or if Blaine and Rachel fall asleep in the middle of a movie night they somehow were talked into and they sneak off to Kurt’s bedroom. They probably never were alone for more than thirty minutes, even with all the groping involved.

There are moments when together with Blaine they sit at a café, and Blaine says something funny and Kurt’s laugh is delayed and almost an afterthought, because he was too busy watching how Sebastian’s smile spread slowly and lazily, how his eyes twinkled a bit with mirth (Kurt’s never sure of that one, it’s quite possible it’s only his imagination – a result of reading too many romance books, where eyes are the mirror of the soul and all those sappy clichés), or if the joke was unexpected, how he tilts his head back a bit and almost barks with laughter. Occasionally, if Kurt’s the source of Sebastian’s entertainment, not counting the banter and mocking of each other, he feels smug for a few minutes and needs to turn off the conversation to happily sip his coffee and make sure he doesn’t say anything nice to Sebastian.

Kurt never thinks too long about what it all means, he just makes sure to steadily ignore any butterflies that may or may not flutter in his stomach at the sight of Sebastian. He doesn’t concentrate on how he feels a short pang of jealousy every time he hears about Sebastian hooking up with someone. And he never acknowledges the satisfaction at how Sebastian seems to sulk a bit whenever Kurt talks about some boy, before he schools his features and starts mocking Kurt.

 

* * *

 

The realization what all that means hits him one evening, when he’s still at college looking through drafts and first trials of costumes for a performance he and some people from the course are planning to throw together just for the fun of it. Of course the  _fun_ disappeared as soon as they stared to think seriously about the thing. Cynthia, their self-assigned director and a person of many positive qualities, none of them consistency, was currently yadda-yaddaing to his ear about maybe turning the whole performance into a happening, because _really, Kurt, can you imagine how difficult will it actually be to make it into a play?_  And believe Kurt when he’s saying she can make the most annoying and boring noises possible when talking.

He’s tired and drained from the whole day of classes and running errands, and apparently, Cynthia was no longer afraid when he threatens he’ll punch her in the face (which figures, since he never followed through with any of the threats he made over the three years in which they knew each other) if she doesn’t start respecting American literature. It doesn’t help that today was supposed to be one of his rare days off and tomorrow he needs to be back at work. That’s when he thinks  _I wish Bastian was here to shut her up_ , which is followed by a  _man, I really have a crush on that guy_. Afterwards he proceeds with having an internal panic attack.

A rescue from Cynthia’s nasal voice and his own mental breakdown comes in form of one Blaine Anderson, or rather a call from him. He arranges to meet with Blaine at a café at which Rachel’s working, because he’s apparently having boy troubles that absolutely cannot wait until they’re all back at the apartment.

 

On days when Kurt feels especially sunshine and butterflies, he likes to think of Blaine Anderson as a prelude to his future love life, so he wouldn’t be discouraged too soon. A very tender, soft-spoken and puppy-love prelude that was supposed to fill him up with positive feelings about love, convince him that people could be happy together, and even if what they felt for each other was no longer love, it wasn’t necessary to pull away and deny what used to be.

On other days, when he thinks that the romance is dead, true love is just a legend and _really, who needs a soulmate?_ , Kurt entertains the idea that he’s forever doomed to have friends too good to be true and crush on people who will never reciprocate his feelings, are out of his league or came from the depths of hell just to make him doubt his impeccable taste in everything. And Blaine is there just to make sure he’s all set on the bad music front.

 

* * *

 

He’s been listening to Blaine talk about a possible more-than-friend for the last fifteen minutes, when Sebastian decides to share his opinion on the subject. In any of the love-life talks that sometimes have place between them, Sebastian’s turn never comes up, because he’d just give too much information, go into too much descriptive details about his last one night stand, and Kurt generally uses pass because he couldn’t care less about love life when he was so busy with college (which sounded really sad, but if you’d seen any of the performances and the work they put in them!).

"Just get in his pants. Either he likes you for sure after that, or you just got in his pants. Either way – score," was the best idea Sebastian came up with. Kurt’s sure neither him nor Blaine counted on anything more.

"Brilliant advice Sebastian, is it based on your own experience in long-term, monogamous relationships? Does your boyfriend agree with this opinion? Oh, you don’t have one and never will, bummer…" Kurt trailed off with a mock pity, deadpanning and staring at Sebastian, daring him to say something back.

"If I had one, he’d probably be banging  _your_  boyfriend right now. Oh wait, you don’t have one, either. Bummer." Sebastian parroted back, rising his eyebrows.

"You’re just opening yourself for a ‘bad in bed’ comment, that’s too easy," he laughed.

"You mean as easy as you after a few beers or…?"

He’s somehow registered that Blaine made some attempt at scolding Sebastian while unnecessarily trying to calm Kurt down, but he’s not really aware of the hand on his shoulder and the scandalized "Sebastian!". He’s much more concentrated on how Sebastian is staring at him, unapologetic and not caring about any of the fumbling they do in bathrooms, unaware of how Kurt thinks he may be in love with Sebastian, and even if he was aware of it, he wouldn’t give two shits about it.

Blaine has no idea what the insult means, and knows enough about Kurt’s love life – once again, nonexistent love life – to not assume it’s a true statement and he would never even begin to think that Sebastian might know what it takes to convince Kurt.

Kurt manages to sound composed, after a tense moment went by and Blaine finally shut up:

"Look at you, give it a few seconds and I’ll be reduced to saying yours is smaller than mine…"

Blaine covers his face with his hand, maybe in defeat and accepting the fact that Kurt and Sebastian will never get along for more than five minutes. Kurt wanted to think it was because of how amusing his last comment was. 

Sebastian seems ready to fire off another bite and continue with insults. It feels a bit nostalgic, because for the first time in a few years, since leaving Ohio, the sole purpose of the conversation between the two of them is to hurt each other, not entertain themselves and kill boredom. Kurt’s pretty sure he doesn’t like it. The way some invisible hand is squeezing and twisting at his heart is not really pleasant either, so he gets up from his chair, pushing it back with a loud scraping noise.

He excuses himself and makes way towards Rachel, who is behind the counter on the other end of the café, cleaning off for the day and rearranging pastries in the small fridge next to an espresso machine.

"Oh, come on, it’s not fun if you run away, Hummel!" Sebastian calls behind him, and Kurt goes against all his rules and flips the other guy off. It earns him a chuckle from Sebastian, but Rachel, who noticed the gesture, gasps in slight indignation.

"That’s rude, don’t do it in public," she scolds Kurt as soon as he’s close enough she doesn’t have to raise her voice. He shrugs in response, and leans on the counter, resting his elbows on it. She sighs and feeds him a leftover muffin, shoving it into his mouth. He’d smile happily at that, but he can only groan and concentrate on the sugar that he’s experiencing at that moment.

"How hard can I hit Sebastian without having to face any repercussions?" he asks, when he was finally done with the eating and Rachel started to clean the espresso machine with a sponge.

Rachel spares him a short unamused stare, and gets back to her work.

"I can do it for you, don’t care about repercussions," she replies. On the best of days Rachel’s not exactly a fan of Sebastian, and it’s soothing that Kurt at least has her on his side.

He even decides not to tease her about Finn for the next few days because of this, that’s how generous he feels. Finchel was this bad car accident – it hurts to look at it, but you just can’t turn away. And it was not ending, it was dragging out, slowly and painfully, and neither Finn nor Rachel wanted to be the first one to tap out. It was part of the fun to prod them both about it and watch as they squirm with uncertainty. For the last year or so Finn has been staying in California, and Rachel’s been freaking out about Puck’s bad influence, half naked girls and cleaning pools. From what Kurt knew, Finn’s been staying in LA and attending acting classes, but Rachel had too little drama in her life to just accept the information.

"Rach, you brighten up my days," he states, referring both to their mutual dislike for Sebastian, and the entertainment watching her relationship was providing him with. They stay in a content silence that is only interrupted by some laughter from where Sebastian and Blaine are sitting and Kurt’s humming, which Rachel joins him in, when she recognizes melody from The Sound of Music. Its pleasant and nice, and when Rachel’s boss comes in to shoo them all out, because it’s already past closing time, Kurt is feeling a bit more stable with his emotions, even if he still really wants to punch Sebastian’s face.

 

That night he has sex with Sebastian. Not some fully-clothed groping and kissing like teenagers at a house party when nobody’s looking, but honest to God intercourse. He doesn’t really have an explanation, or rather an excuse, as to why it happened, but thankfully Rachel and Blaine didn’t notice. Well, not until the morning after, but they didn’t press too much about it.

They’ve been out drinking, because this is what people are supposed to do in college, and giving moral support to Blaine as he was meeting with that boy of his at a club and the four of them somehow lost each other in the crowd.

When he’s at the bar, Sebastian finds him again. Across from them, Blaine is dancing in very close proximity to some tall-ish but slender guy, whom Kurt vaguely recognizes from their college department. Sebastian is staring not at Blaine, but at Kurt and he’s surprised and confused when he sees something akin to sympathy in Sebastian’s eyes.

Maybe ten minutes later, Sebastian is shoving him against the club’s bathroom’s door, biting on his neck and pressing their groins together, pushing with his knees to make Kurt spread his legs a bit for more contact. If he wasn’t still feeling a bit strung out by his earlier _I’m in love with Sebastian Smythe_  discovery, he’d be wondering why Sebastian’s moves are more urgent and predatory than their usual  _modus operandi_ , more intense. But as it was he just wanted it to be  _even more_.   

"Sleep with me tonight," Sebastian asks, demands. His lips are tracing the skin behind Kurt’s ear and right then Kurt is ready to agree to anything Sebastian wants from him, so he breathes out: "Alright."

He makes sure Rachel won’t be going home on her own; he feels responsible for her and talked with her fathers enough times to realize they count on him to take care of their daughter (Finn is usually implying the same, although not as subtly as Mr. & Mr. Berry). He unintentionally cockblocks Blaine in the process, which would make him laugh at some point if it wasn’t for the dark look in Sebastian’s eyes as soon as they left the club without raising Rachel’s or Blaine’s suspicions. 

The two of them stumble into Kurt’s apartment around midnight. Sebastian’s hands keep touching at any part of Kurt they can reach, sliding up and down his back, under his shirt that was long pulled out of his jeans, inside the pants, firmly grabbing Kurt’s dick before they even got to his bedroom. The moan that escaped through his lips surprises them both, and because he feels some more undignified noises threatening to come out, he presses his mouth to Sebastian’s, as he’s walking backwards to the room.

They’re not drunk. At least, Kurt’s not drunk. He might’ve been a bit tipsy, but he’s perfectly aware of what is happening, even if his mind is foggy with desire and want. Sebastian seems pretty sober himself, his eyes are clear as they roam over Kurt’s body, shirt unbuttoned and pushed halfway down his arms, pants unbuttoned. Kurt is hard, but Sebastian is in the same position, straining against the fabric of his pants.

Sebastian pushes him onto the bed, and closes the door behind them.

 

He’s woken up next morning by an annoying sound blaring somewhere next to his ear. For a second, he feels content, satisfied and warm, so for the time being he ignores what was probably an alarm clock and reality. Then, there’s some rustling beside him, and suddenly his body feels cold, and some part of him is aware that his arm feels more comfortable – he can actually  _feel_  the arm again. There’s more movement next to him, and rustling of fabric and padding of feet further away, and Kurt remembers last night.

A muttered _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_  from other side of the bed prevents him from getting up and facing Sebastian. It anchors him to the bed and he’s unwilling to move, show any sign that he’s awake, so he keeps laying until he can hear the soft click of his door being opened, then closed again.

He stayed in place for another five minutes, until he heard Rachel’s soft laughter from outside his room, and looked at his cellphone.

It was definitely too late to have an angst-ridden morning, because his shift was starting in less than an hour.

"Sebastian just left," Rachel announced as he walked to into the lounge room when he managed to get dressed. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience – his muscles, even the ones he never knew that existed, were sore and everything seemed to be too much of a bother.

Rachel’s been sitting on the couch, sipping coffee from a KISS ME, I’M IRISH mug that none of them knew the origins of, buried under a pile of papers and magazines. She managed to look both smug and put together, even if she was still in pajamas and her hair was a mess.

"Oh, did he?" he asks, trying to sound disinterested as he turns the coffee machine on.

It’s a bit difficult not to squirm under the judging gaze that he’s sure Rachel is regarding him with right now. It was probably a bad move not to comment on her hair, he always commented on her hair (it just  _never_  looked good enough).

"He greeted me with a very casual ‘sup’ and nodded his head like an African American from, as the kids call it, the hood, then proceeded to walk out the apartment with his shoes in his hands." 

And had Kurt not been slightly devastated inside, he’d laugh at Rachel’s description. As it was, he snorted.

"What’s funny?" Blaine asks sleepily, walking out of his room and rubbing a hand over his face.

"Sebastian’s walk of shame," Kurt answers plainly, not waiting for Rachel to make it sound more important than necessary.

"What?’

"Sebastian’s walk…" Kurt starts repeating, amused, but is interrupted by Blaine.

"No I got that, but why would…" Blaine trails of, his confusion still evident on his face until he looks at Kurt as if he grew a second head.

"Kurt," Blaine’s tone is scolding, "You’re smarter than that!"

Kurt actually honestly laughs at that comment, and Rachel seems to find it equally funny, because she laughs as well, though probably for different reasons.

He’d probably enjoy listening to disapproving Blaine for bit longer, but he needs to be at work in twenty, so he shrugs at Blaine’s continuing lecture and pours his coffee to his tumbler, and soon leaves the apartment, ignoring Blaine’s worried stare.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t see Sebastian for the next few days. It’s both good and terrible. Good, because Kurt’s pretty sure his heart got broken in the process of having a meaningless one night stand with Sebastian. Terrible, because he,  _dare he think it!_ , misses Sebastian’s annoying and ugly face. The worst part is that he wasn’t doing the avoiding – Sebastian’s been the one to disappear.

They see each other at the end of the week, when Kurt was somehow let from work early, and he managed to meet up for dinner with Blaine and, as an extension, Sebastian.

He was reading, entertaining himself while Blaine went to answer a call, when Sebastian walked to their table. For a second Kurt wasn’t sure what to do, but thankfully Sebastian looked his usual self.

"Every time you wear not one but two popped collars, not one but two baby kittens are dumped into a river in a bag," Kurt clicks his tongue in distaste, taking in the sight in front of him.

"I’m not taking advice from someone who uses Teen Vogue to plan their outfits," Sebastian replies, annoyed.

"Whoa there, Madame Pompadour," Kurt gasped in fake offense, "I’m just starting to think that lax bro vibe you’ve got going on is not just a horrible accident but an actual fashion statement. Though calling it fashion is far too generous."

It’s funny because Sebastian’s been whining about no male lacrosse representation team at Columbia for the last three years, and still didn’t get over it. And because probably every piece of clothing Sebastian owns is hideous and just screams ‘I’m in the frat!’ 

Predictably, Sebastian scowls in response.

"Yeah, sorry, not all of us have an unlimited supply of girl clothes in our closest, like you seem to have."

"Fashion has no gender, Sebastian," Kurt replied flatly with his well-practiced defense statement. It kind of helped that nothing he wore today was from woman’s section, because Sebastian refrained from teasing Kurt’s style any further.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me heads up when you decide to go out in a dress, so I can prepare myself mentally." Sebastian waved his hand to disregard any comments Kurt might have, and continued, "Where’s Blaine?" he asked, looking around in search of their little friend.

"Got a call from Coop, went to take it," Kurt informed, staring at Sebastian for a second before deciding to get back to reading his book, so they didn’t have to actually interact with each other.

"What’s that?"

Sebastian, apparently, didn’t plan on sitting in silence. He seemed kind of uncomfortable, squirming a bit under Kurt’s amused stare, because they never did casual conversation.

Instead of answering, Kurt lifted the book to show its cover, with  _Canto General_  on it, hoping Sebastian will get the message and stay quiet until Blaine comes back.

"Oh," escapes Sebastian’s mouth, and his voice gets tender and pleased, as he proceeds to break Kurt apart: " _I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire._ "

A part of Kurt hopes that Sebastian will stop, or that Blaine will come back right this second, but the smooth murmurs continue, too quiet for other people to hear, but loud enough to make sure it burns into Kurt’s mind.

" _I love you only because it’s you the one I love, I hate you deeply and hating you,_ " a pause, too short to hope Sebastian’s done, " _Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly,_ "

‘Bastian,’ Kurt tries weakly, interrupting, without looking at Sebastian’s face, eyes still boring into a page in his book, as the other boy is now leaning across the table, towards Kurt.

" _Maybe January light will consume,_ " Sebastian continues, without showing any sign that he heard Kurt, " _My heart with it’s cruel Ray, stealing my key to true calm._ "

It’s weird, hearing a love poem from Sebastian’s mouth in the middle of a busy family restaurant, with kids screaming about French fries behind him, and it should probably be off-putting and freaking him out. But it’s not, and even if Kurt wants to run away and never face his feelings for Sebastian until they go away, his heart skips a beat few times.

Before Sebastian manages to get to the next verse, he suddenly stops and straightens back. Finally, Kurt is able to breathe normally, and he looks up, noticing that Sebastian’s face is carefully schooled into his default expression – a smirk, and slightly raised eyebrows. He then registers Blaine coming back. 

"You’re not at each other’s throats!" was what Blaine greeted them with. Unsurprisingly, he’s not teasing, he means it, and is really happy about it.

"Pity, I know," Sebastian says and winks,  _winks!_ , at Kurt who goes slightly red remembering how Sebastian last time was literally at his throat, and he self-consciously rubs the skin there.

He knows they are there to support, or whatever, Blaine in his newest romance, but he doesn’t want to sit across from Sebastian. Doesn’t want to look at him thinking about the soft way Sebastian’s repeated love so many times in the last few minutes, while at the same time remembering how he slid out of Kurt’s bed and just run away the morning after they had sex, pretending it never happened.

So Kurt does what he thinks is the best solution. He pretends there’s some costume emergency for the performance and runs off.

 

* * *

 

At first the performance was not supposed to be a  _big_  thing. Just some short staging of The Hollow Men they could use as practice for turning stuff into plays while showing off how cultured and acquainted they are with literature. It turned out into a too big to handle at times project, that somehow managed to cover most of their time for over a month. Kurt liked it because he didn’t have to concentrate on anything else and could just bury himself in the preparations and feel satisfaction because damn, he was good at whatever he did, if he could say so himself. 

It might have turned out to be a bit too artsy and they may have gone a bit overboard with overinterpretation, but that was the point (they pretended that was the point).

They ended up making a  _huge_  thing of the performance. Some kids even invited their parents. Kurt invited his roommates and apparently at some point in the past he thought it would be a great idea to include Sebastian, who was standing now, during the afterparty at the college’s canteen, next to Blaine, a glass of probably wine in his hand. He was thoughtful enough not to put on his polo shirts, and in a dark navy blazer over a gray v-neck, he actually looked presentable enough for Kurt not to die of shame that he knew people like him. It also painfully reminded Kurt that Sebastian was a really handsome man he had a crush on. Or was in love with. Whatever. Unimportant details.

"I feel like I overdressed," Sebastian says casually instead of greeting, when somehow accidentally they met (Okay, so maybe Kurt made sure they met. Again - unimportant details). Blaine’s busy with his future, not yet!, boyfriend while Rachel is running around and making sure everything is organized.

"Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure you still spent less time dressing than that chick," Kurt tilted his head in the direction of a homeless looking girl who could easily pass for someone who sleeps in Central Park on a daily basis. Sad thing was, probably more than a half of his department looked like that.

Sebastian laughs at that.

"So, nice acting," he says.

"Nice? Your aunt can be nice. This was spectacular," Kurt says, eyes wide with actual disbelief that this was the best compliment Sebastian could come up with.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, but the way he looks at Kurt is just fond.

Kurt remembers perfectly how he felt when Sebastian basically ran off from his bed after they slept together, but everything seems like they’re back to normal. Teasing, not declaring love through poetry, and just barely standing each other. He thinks that maybe they are totally back to normal, so he puts his hand on Sebastian’s forearm, and gives him a  _look_. It feels weird, and maybe they’re not back to normal because he never initiates this and he can see it in the way Sebastian is surprised. He even furrows his brows, and for a second Kurt thinks Sebastian looks disapproving. But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Bastian presses a hand against his back and starts ushering Kurt towards the room’s exit.

They didn’t meet anyone in the hallway. It’s empty, although they heard someone giggling in one of the storage rooms. There was enough privacy for what Kurt had in mind earlier, but he starts panicking – he doesn’t want this, he just wants to be close to Sebastian, but not if they are going to repeat whatever’s been going on until now. He wants kisses in public, in bedroom, in the morning and as a greeting, goodbye or goodnight even if they sleep in the same bed, and his mind is just going crazy right now, hoping they will never reach where Sebastian is leading them, so he can forever just feel that warm hand against his back.

But then, they are at one of the costume rooms, far enough from the party they won’t be bothered, and Kurt’s panic didn’t pass, so he does the first thing that he comes up with and kisses Sebastian.

It’s just a press of the lips and he doesn’t know what to do next.

Sebastian lifts his arms to his hips and for a moment Kurt is relieved that he doesn’t have to be in charge while being terrified, but the hands that rest at his hips are just there, holding, actually pushing him away a bit.

"What’s wrong?" Kurt asks, and those are the first words between them since they left the canteen.

"I don’t think I can…"

"Are you serious? Sebastian you can with everyone, you make a point of shoving it into people’s faces." And okay, wow, maybe that was a bit too far, because Sebastian now really does look pissed off.

"Thanks, Hummel, for your valuable insight," Sebastian’s voice is just hissing, and he makes way towards the doors.

Somehow, Kurt manages to grab his hand before he walks out.

"Wait, come on, I didn’t mean it like that," Kurt hurries to explain. "Can’t we just…" he makes a vague gesture between the two of them, and as soon as that’s out he knows he’s just making it worse, so he just groans and covers his face with the hand that’s not making sure Sebastian stays in the room.

"Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying," he mumbles because Sebastian is still not speaking. When he finally does, Kurt is watching him.  

"I’ve been throwing myself at you for the last two years, Kurt. You can’t…" Sebastian starts and trails off, and he looks so vulnerable Kurt is at a loss for words, "…You can’t," he repeats an Kurt has no idea what exactly  _he can’t_ , "I don’t care if you’re still hung up on Blaine or whatever…" Sebastian’s voice is actually bordering on breaking down, and there is just so much wrong with that statement, that Kurt doesn’t want him to continue.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he raises up both his hands to stop whatever Sebastian wants to say next, unintentionally letting him go. "Who in god’s name is hung up on Blaine?" he asks, rising his eyebrows.

"We had sex. Because Blaine got a boyfriend," Sebastian informs him. He  _informs_  Kurt, as if it was very obvious and a fact.

"I didn’t have sex with… Oh God, I can’t even have this conversation with you Sebastian, it’s so ridiculous," he puts his face in his palm, and speaks up again, "Do you think I wanted you to, what, cheer me up?"

"I don’t- I didn’t know- What the hell did you want then?" Sebastian’s voice’s both confused and angry as he spoke, changing his mind about what to say a few times.

"Well, for starters, maybe you not turning it into a coyote morning, so we could talk?" he asked incredulous.

"We’re talking right now!"

"I hate your stupid face so much, Sebastian," Kurt groaned in frustration, "What do you want from me, Bas?" he asked after a few seconds passed in silence and Sebastian’s just been staring at him, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

"I recited a freaking Neruda love poem to you, how much clearer do I need to be?!" It was Sebastian’s turn to stare at Kurt in disbelief, and was there a hint of annoyance?

"Use your words, Sebastian! It can’t be that difficult!"

"Those were words, you jackass," and Sebastian has a point, but Kurt’s not going to admit it. Sebastian never even implied he wanted to be with him, and that was the whole problem. You can be in love, but it doesn’t mean you want to be together.

"That was just you bitching about how you hate and," Kurt faltered for a second, "love me," he finished stumbling over the two words.

"Did you seriously just call that bitching?" Sebastian genuinely laughs, and it slightly relieves the tension Kurt’s been feeling.

"Yeah," he admits self-consciously, and looks away from Sebastian.

"I want you," Sebastian says then, barely loud enough for Kurt to hear, and he kind of wants to make Sebastian repeat it just to tease him, but he doesn’t want to treat this like a joke. And because he’s in love with Sebastian, he breathes out and says:

"Alright."

In a blink of an eye, all his senses are over-loaded with  _Sebastian_  – his smell, taste and touch, the way his pulse, raised but steady, beats underneath Kurt’s fingers, and the way he can hear his breathing, soft and irregular.

It might’ve been a second or it might’ve been an hour, not that Kurt cares, when Sebastian finally pulls his face away. Kurt chases his lips with his own, pressing softly, and Sebastian chuckles at that, allowing him to get a few more kisses.

"We good?" Sebastian asks, breathless from the kissing, his fingers tangled in Kurt’s hair, gripping it firmly. His muscles are tense, Kurt felt underneath his palms how Sebastian’s body went from relaxed to rigid in a second. His eyes are closed, avoiding looking at Kurt, which is probably why he can’t see the soft smile playing on Kurt’s lips.

"Yeah," he replies simply, because he doesn’t trust his voice – he feels a bit too vulnerable right now, and there’s no guarantee that if he speaks any more, he won’t sound pathetic, and needy, and squeaky, and just begging to be used.

"Good," Sebastian hums, still not opening his eyes, but he rests his forehead against Kurt’s and the hold he has on Kurt’s hair relaxes, one of the hands slides to rest at Kurt’s neck, stroking the skin there with his fingers. ‘Because I really want to fuck you right now,’ he adds in a soft tone, quietly and tenderly, it sounds almost like a declaration of love, and Kurt’s stomach does a small flip at that thought.

"Good," Kurt parrots back. He then clears his throat once,  _God, his voice is terrible_ , and speaks again: "Because I really want you to."

**Author's Note:**

> Title and excerpt in the story taken from Pablo Neruda’s _I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You_ , also known as _Sonnet 66_. 
> 
> Originally posted at my [tumblr](http://inyourheadlights.tumblr.com/post/21543207787/fic-except-because-i-love-you) and was written during the winter hiatus, before Blaine turned into a total douchenozzle.


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